Chapter 20 – People Called Her The Motherless Girl (2)

Read on K​atReadi​ngCafe

People called the girl “the motherless child.”  

One person would say it, and others would jot it down, whispering and repeating it.  

*Scratch, scratch.*  

The sound could be heard.  

It was as if the girl’s existence could only take shape within their pity.  

But the girl held no expectations for them.  

She knew that pity was an emotion that only brought satisfaction to the one offering it, while holding no meaning for the recipient.  

The girl quietly observed the people surrounding her.  

There were so many eyes.  

Two eyes made a pair, and 66 pairs meant 132 eyeballs.  

330 fingers, 66 ears, and trillions of strands of hair.  

This massive cluster of numbers stared at her with pity, making her the object of their sympathy.  

But the girl felt neither burdened nor uncomfortable under their gaze.  

She simply watched where their gazes lingered.  

When they looked at her mother’s portrait with sad faces, lamenting, and pitied the poor girl who had lost her mother, the girl suddenly wanted to ask a question.  

Rubbing her bruised thumb with her finger, she spoke in a calm voice.  

“If a cicada spends over five years underground, only to emerge and die within a month, is that pitiful?”  

For a moment, the people’s expressions froze.  

As if caught off guard by an unexpected question.  

But soon, they began to offer familiar answers.  

‘Yes.’  

They said the cicada was pitiful.  

To live in the dark, damp soil for five years without any protection, only to emerge and die within a month—wasn’t that too harsh?  

Even after emerging, its life wasn’t safe, so it was a life of insecurity.  

The girl blinked quietly.  

Just once.  

As if savoring the brief moment.  

“Then,”  

the girl slowly opened her mouth.  

“Does that mean you think the cicada’s life is far more miserable than your own?”  

The people hesitated for a moment but soon confidently answered yes.  

The girl nodded slowly.  

 

Then, she spread her arms and took a step forward.  

“You fight like it’s a war just to rent a tiny room, and when things don’t go your way, you blame politics, society, ideology, race, parents, and eventually others.  

You struggle your whole life thinking about a house you’ll never own, and when you fail, you blame others again. Stocks, coins, savings—you pour money into them, and when you fail, you blame others for that too.  

Is that life really better than a cicada’s? Is a life of tearing each other down truly admirable?”  

The people didn’t answer.  

Some frowned, some chuckled, and some finally looked at the girl with strange eyes.  

Of course, most looked at her with disdain.  

Their reactions were along the lines of, “What’s this kid talking about?”  

The girl shrugged.  

Their reactions no longer mattered to her.  

 

*****  

People need to create meaning to survive.  

Feeling pity for the cicada, believing their own lives are more noble—it’s all to “make sense” of things.  

Not to understand the world, but to make it acceptable. The girl had realized this long ago.  

So Lauten said:  

“Didn’t I tell you before? The life of a mercenary, the relatively safe life of being part of a PMC—is that really a life free from suffering? If it’s good, if we all die someday, if death is natural for humans, then is dying on the job a good death?”  

Her gaze didn’t waver.  

It was as if she didn’t care, yet already knew everything.  

She didn’t understand the sadness of death.  

Or perhaps, she didn’t want to understand.  

She had long accepted that all humans die, and that it was an unavoidable fact.  

Lauten looked at me with an expression as if she had regained something lost over the years.  

Her eyes glistened with tears, shimmering under the library’s bright light, trembling as if she had finally encountered someone she had missed even in her dreams.  

Her fingertips trembled slightly, and her breathing was shallower and quicker than usual.  

“Heavenly Wolf Star… no, Sirius.”  

She carefully took my hand.  

The moment her fingertips touched mine, warmth spread.  

As if that alone could stop her breath, Lauten bowed her head and gasped.  

Her shoulders were shaking.  

I thought she looked like a lost child walking alone on a cold night.  

Relief at finally meeting the person she had waited for so long, mixed with the fear that this, too, might disappear.  

I quietly watched her.  

“You’re really…”  

Lauten’s voice trembled as she barely managed to speak.  

Her eyes held both disbelief and deep affection.  

I understood that feeling.  

No, I had to pretend to understand.  

I had to recreate every detail of the Heavenly Wolf Star she remembered—his touch, his voice, his warmth, every small element.  

Because the library couldn’t become any more chaotic or bloodstained right now.  

Instead, I decided to give her an answer.  

It was the answer to her longing.  

And I could give it to her.  

“Lauten.”  

When I casually called her name, she anxiously grabbed my wrist.  

Her grip was like a child desperately clinging to their mother’s sleeve.  

A slight tremor passed through her fingertips.  

“…You’re not going to leave me to go work again, are you?”  

Her voice was low, but the weight of the emotion behind it was anything but light.  

She wanted to feel safe in the Heavenly Wolf Star’s embrace, at least for this moment, and I knew that feeling well.  

And I had to use it.  

But I wasn’t the Heavenly Wolf Star.  

Only I knew the truth.  

‘I’m not the Heavenly Wolf Star you’ve been waiting for.’  

If I said that now, how would her expression change?  

Would she sink back into despair, consumed by anxiety and fear?  

Or would she deny it and cling to me anyway?  

Neither outcome was what I wanted.  

What Lauten needed now wasn’t denial but certainty.  

I decided to give her that certainty.  

“Why would I leave you?”  

And I added,  

“I’m sorry.”  

At that moment, her eyes wavered.  

As if she had finally heard the words she had been waiting for, relief and joy slowly spread across her face.  

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at me and whispered,  

“…Really?”  

In response to her earnest question, I silently hugged her.  

Then Lauten buried herself in my arms, taking a deep breath.  

As if she wanted to feel my warmth with her entire body.  

“You’ve worked hard. Rest for a while now.”  

Her hand tightly gripped my collar.  

As if trying to hold on, to make sure I wouldn’t disappear again.  

She quietly inhaled.  

I could feel her warm body heat seeping into my skin.  

At that moment, I thought I understood what she truly wanted.  

The happiness of finding what she had missed.  

And the fear that it might disappear again.  

I closed my eyes for a moment.  

When I opened them again, Lauten was looking up at me from within my embrace.  

Her eyes were moist, and her cheeks were flushed.  

“What if… you don’t come back?”  

Her voice trembled faintly.  

I quietly looked at her.  

And slowly answered,  

“That won’t happen. If I don’t come back, come find me at this library again.”  

At that moment, someone coughed behind us.  

“Uh, um.”  

It was Yu Hae.  

He awkwardly clasped his hands together, fidgeting as he gauged the situation.  

“A guest has chosen a book…”  

I turned to see Yu Hae, Wilhelm von Albert of the Hanseatic Empire, and the other ghosts standing behind him.  

But for some reason, the number of ghosts had increased.  

Not just one, but two more.  

“You bastard! I died because of you, with a pickaxe stuck in my head!”  

“Albanian?”  

A man with glasses spat at a man with a distinctive mustache, shouting, while the mustached man snorted dismissively.  

“Now, now, calm down…”  

A bald man tried to mediate, but the two shouted in unison.  

“”Master, stay out of this!””  

“Damn brats.”  

Yu Hae watched them and then pointed behind him, asking,  

“What should we do?”  

I let out a short sigh.  

Lauten was still buried in my arms, looking up at me.  

“Lauten, I’ll deal with them and come back. Can you wait?”  

“N-no… I don’t want to…”  

*Thud—!*  

Her arms and hands wrapped around my waist, holding me tightly.  

“N-no… Why do you keep trying to leave? Everyone… everyone leaves. But I thought Sirius wouldn’t die…”  

“……”  

I had a feeling this would lead to troublesome complications later.  

So I smiled at her and said,  

“This body… was lent to me by the witch. She knows the situation.”  

“Th-then you can’t leave like this!?”  

“I can’t. But I’ll remain alive in this library. So, I won’t leave you.”  

As I spoke, I looked toward the third floor, filled with unorganized books.  

“There, you’ll find a book to help you remember me. Find it there, and whenever you miss me, read it. If you still miss me… then come to the library. Can you do that?”  

“B-but…”  

“I can’t leave. The witch won’t wait any longer. No more—”  

Trying hard to suppress the ridiculous acting, I groaned and clutched my head in pain.  

I quickly decided to categorize things here.  

The ‘good’ Sirius and the ‘bad’ witch.  

*Snap—!*  

After holding my head and groaning in pain for a moment, I sighed and looked at Lauten.  

“Your time is up, guest.”  

“Huh…?”  

“The time for this Sirius or whatever you’re calling him is over. Please stop this affection act.”  

*Thud—!*  

Though I could have done it from the start, I had held back for the library’s sake, and for everyone else. I forcefully pushed away the hands and arms clinging to me.  

Then, I coldly shot her a look and said,  

“The princess act is over, guest.”  

“…No. That can’t be. I don’t want that!”  

“But this is reality.”  

I sneered at her.  

“Sirius is dead, and you can’t meet him without my permission. So, for my sake, or for everyone’s sake, if you borrow at least one book, I’ll give you more time next time we meet.”  

With a cold, cruel glare, she slumped to the floor, overwhelmed by fear and confusion.  

I looked down at her with shadowed eyes and said,  

“If you interfere with my duties as a librarian any further, I won’t stand idly by, guest.”  

In the end, Lauten bowed her head.  

“…Right. Sirius is really… dead, isn’t he?”  

Her trembling lips and hands showed the weight of her despair.  

I felt no particular emotion about it.  

I simply sighed, shaking my head as if pitying a grown woman acting like this.  

I had to make her see me as the villain, while also fearing that if she pushed too hard, she might lose the ‘good’ Sirius she longed for.  

This way, she wouldn’t confront me.  

Because if she did, she might never see Sirius again.  

“Now, guest. What book did you come for?”  

With my hands politely clasped in front of me, I greeted Albert, who looked flustered after witnessing the coldness I had just shown.  

“Ah, well. This book, comrade.”  

He held up a book.  

“I’ll pay with these gold coins.”  

Albert smiled and handed me a pouch of gold coins.  

“Tsk. It’s the workers’ taxes, after all. What’s so…”  

“What’s so great about him smiling like that?”  

“Honestly. Equality here is a joke.”  

After receiving Albert’s pouch of gold coins, I bowed politely and said,  

“May this knowledge serve you well…”  

Albert silently bowed and headed for the door.  

 

=====  

[Guest: Wilhelm von Albert]  

[Nationality: Hanja Empire]  

[Borrowed Book: *The Revolution Betrayed*]  

[Author: Leon Trotsky]  

[Price: Gold coins]  

=====  

Another familiar name appeared.